Stef and I have spent the last week or so trawling autotrader and the like for a decent family car to replace the fiat coupe monstrosity he currently cherishes, as part of this mammoth undertaking we also visited a car auction on Saturday. Armed with the parkers price guide we wandered the lot and argued the merits of dozens. It was a strange experience, not the least because we’re really not sure as to the type of car best suited to our needs – I had to pull the salivating lad away from the tastily priced Jag with the reminder that it wouldn’t be as pretty when covered in baby sick..
Anyhow the best part of the day was nothing to do with the cars, there we were sat in the auction room debating about making a bid on certain cars as they came through the door when Newt decided to make his/ her presence felt – every time the auctioneer started “170170170170170170170170170.. Do I hear 180? Warrented mileage, tidy car.. Yes 18180185190190190190190190190190190190190” littl’un started kicking a counter rhythm so hard and so fast you could see my belly move – I couldn’t help it, I got the giggles.
Every time the auctioneer stopped, the baby stopped, when he started again – off went my lil drummer. The poor guy in the booth must have wondered what the hell was up with us because we ended up not bidding on a single thing, instead we were sat there with the tears pouring down our cheeks in paroxysms of laughter at the antics of our unborn.
When we go back we’ll be more prepared and hopefully come away with more than a grin, but it was definitely one of those ‘you had to be there’ moments. In the meantime.. Back to scanning the private ads and Ebay in search of furniture and transportation while I await the outcome of my lettings application.